


The Hurricane In Those Quiet Eyes

by Spencer_Grey



Series: It's Just The Coming Of The Seas [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Nate Needs a Nap, Not So Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Cuddling, Sleep Deprivation, Steelatom - Freeform, They are so in love, can you tell im trash for this ship, i love nate angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 01:31:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18928582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spencer_Grey/pseuds/Spencer_Grey
Summary: Nate hasn't slept lately and his "best buddy" refuses to leave him alone.





	The Hurricane In Those Quiet Eyes

Nate laid on the floor of the library, a dozen books scattered around him, all open and discarded. They had proved useless to distract his whirlwind mind, everything he read lead his thoughts back to the _only_ thing he didn’t want to think about.

His eyelids dropped for a moment before he startled awake. His dreams were no better than reality, the last thing he wanted was to fall asleep and have no control. Nate bolted upright, sighing as he rubbed his face, giving himself a few small slaps to snap out of the drowsy state he had walked through during the last couple days.

Coffee. He needed coffee.

Taking one of the many empty mugs that littered the room, knowing that he had almost emptied their practically unlimited supply, Nate stumbled away

The Waverider was silent. Everyone must be asleep, Nate realised. He had forgotten what time it was, or just how many days he had stayed awake.

He kept his movements quiet, not wanting to alert anyone of his actions because that would only make things worse. He might not have been able to hold his tongue if someone asked, “What’s wrong?”

Nate stopped moving without really wanting to. He blinked, once, then twice before his brain was able to catch up on his surroundings.

He stood outside Ray’s room. The door was shut, but Nate knew it wouldn’t be locked. Ray would never lock them out, especially Nate; he had made it abundantly clear that Nate was welcome anytime. Despite it all, Nate was still too afraid to enter.

He raised a fist, intent on knocking, disturbing Ray from his sleep because Nate was too much of a mess to handle it himself. Nate attributed his trembling hands and the twisting knot in his stomach to sleep deprivation, and nothing more.

But Nate kept walking. He made it all the way to the kitchen without incident.

Not trusting his hands to be steady enough, he said, “Gideon? I need caffeine.”

“Of course, Dr. Heywood. Although, I can’t recommend you consume this amount of caffeine.”

Nate laughed, his eyes slipping close as he stood and sounded only slightly hysterical. Against her warning, Nate heard Gideon finish his order and moved to drink the scalding coffee.

“Might I add,” Gideon said, letting Nate groan before continuing. “You haven’t slept in 74 hours and this is your tenth coffee in the same amount of hours. I suggest, rather than forcing yourself awake, you get the rest you desperately need.”

“Don’t worry about it, Gideon.”

Although it wasn’t the longest he’d stayed awake, not by a long shot, Nate’s legs threatened to give out, as if being told the exact time he’d been without sleep somehow made it more real; and even with the new amount of caffeine in his veins, it was too much.

Carefully, and without spilling a drop of brown liquid onto the ship’s pristine tiles, Nate took small steps towards the table and slid into a chair.

With his head spinning, heart about to pound out of his chest, and for the first time, not a coherent thought, Nate didn’t have the room in his mind to register the obvious sound of something entering the kitchen.

“Hey, buddy, what’s up?”

Of course it was Ray, it just had to be Ray. Nate would’ve taken Mick over Ray right then.

Nate might’ve muttered a reply into his mug, he might’ve stayed silent. His limbs didn’t feel like his, and his body acted on its own accord. That’s probably why he didn’t react when Ray sat down next to him.

Ray repeated his question, only more concerned when Nate hadn’t answered. His eyes remained set on Nate, even when he barely acknowledged Ray’s existence.

The coffee was still far too hot, but Nate decided to chug it anyway. The pain as it burned his tongue and throat was the perfect mix between refreshing and gruelling. Though, before he could finish the cup, it was taken from his hands.

“What was that for?” Nate whined.

After a pitiful attempt to snatch the mug away, Ray only needing to move it a few centimetres out of his reach, Nate slumped back in the chair.

No getting out the conversation now; unless his body finally decided to pass out right then, but of course, he was wide awake.

“Tell me what’s going on and I’ll give it back,” Ray said.

“Nothing’mfine.”

Ray raised an eyebrow at Nate’s half-assed, rushed attempt to answer. The former didn’t move, keeping his soft gaze on Nate and stayed quiet.

Nate sighed. “Just haven’t been able to sleep lately.”

“Nightmares?” Ray guessed.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

Ray hummed, and Nate almost wanted to curse him out for being so easy to talk to. As much as he wished he could, Nate couldn’t lie to Ray, couldn’t hide his true feelings; especially when Ray’s whole face was inviting.

“Sometimes it's nightmares,” Nate explained, “sometimes it’s good things that I really want to happen, but I know they’re impossible. They both hurt too much.”

Ray nodded, processing his friend’s words. “Wanna talk about it? The nightmares or even just the good dreams?”

Nate finally meet Ray’s gentle eyes and regretted it instantly, his anxiety melting away in a blink.

“It’s just. . . every time we go out into the field, we could die.” Nate took a sharp breath, letting it go slowly as averted his gaze from Ray again. “And sometimes all I see when I’m asleep is, is everyone dying and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

If Nate’s eyes were watery, Ray didn’t mention it, not even when he joined their hands, not even when he offered a small, sad smile to Nate.

“Yeah, I get it, I’ve had those dreams before.” Ray was steady, grounding them both with a constant presence.

He was there, and that’s all Nate needed.

“And as much as they suck,” Ray continued, “you can’t just _not sleep_ to avoid them.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“This.” Ray squeezed Nate’s hand. “You talk about it, you ask for help, and you don’t deal with it alone. We’re a team here. We help each other.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I guess I forget that sometimes.”

Nate thought he responded straight away, but the way Ray perked up after he spoke indicated it had been longer. The fuzziness in Nate’s head was getting bigger and it was harder to think.

“C’mon, get up,” Ray said.

Without question, Nate stood, only swaying slightly. Ray slipped one of Nate’s arm over his shoulder, carrying the latter away.

“Wait, wait, what about m’coffee?” Nate asked once they had left the kitchen.

“Oh, you didn’t notice? I drunk it while you were talking.”

Ray smiled, his usual dazzling grin that made Nate stumble. The following few moments went by in a blur to Nate and the next thing he realised, Nate was lying down on his back. He shifted on the bed and realised something.

“This isn’t my room,” he muttered, already half asleep as he nestled into the blanket that was draped over him.

“Well, I wanna make sure you get some sleep, so I thought, you can’t lie about it if I’m right next to you,” Ray explained sheepishly, half hoping that Nate would’ve been too exhausted to notice.

Nate was on the verge of falling asleep when he felt Ray shuffle into bed next to him, and while before his brain had been ignoring most details, he was acutely aware of everything right then.

Ray was pressing against his shoulder, he was so close to Nate, in such an intimate situation. Nate was too tired to put his guard up, too tired to move, to put some much needed space between them because there was no way Nate could handle this.

No way he deserved this.

That’s all everything boiled down to, really. Nate didn’t deserve anything he had. The family, the friends, the happiness, he shouldn’t have any of it.

He definitely didn’t deserve Ray.

“What about the good dreams?”

Nate was pulled out from his self loathing for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“You said that you had good dreams too, why don’t you like them?”

Nate hated lying to Ray, he was too good, had done nothing to earn it. So instead, Nate worked further into the blanket, pretending as if he had fallen asleep before he could answer.

Because even if he could explain his nightmares to Ray, even if he trusted Ray more than he knew he was capable of, Nate couldn’t share that part of him. No, that part had to be buried deep, deep down, never shown the light of day because that would make things _too_ real.

Because how could Nate tell him? How could he explain that Ray was in every single one of Nate’s dreams, that _they were together_ in the best ones, that they only kissed in the worst?

How could he say that memories in the morning of Ray’s mouth, Ray returning the aching love hurt more than memories of Ray dying, blaming Nate for all the pain he felt.

Ray rolled onto his side and Nate could feel him studying his face. They stayed there for a few minutes, Nate unable to fully fall asleep despite everything and Ray watching him; or he might’ve gone to sleep himself, Nate couldn’t tell.

Then, from the silence, Ray finally spoke. “You’ll be alright, Nate. I’m here.”

-

Nate didn’t wake up when Ray slipped from the bed at 6am and he didn’t stir when Ray checked on him at 10am, or 12pm, or even 2pm.

The Legends made sure to not let anything crash, explode, or implode that day, and left their historian to sleep.

Nate didn’t dream. Nothing good or bad, impossible or incredibly likely, just a peaceful slumber.

And when he woke up, there was Ray, studying his face again and his trademark smile.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
